Resurrection feels, at first, like an oddly fitting dress to me. Tight in all the wrong places with an unflattering pattern and itchy seam. When my Bodysex sister first uttered the phrase “Gracious Resurrection” to describe how she felt at the end of the workshop, I recoiled slightly. As the years of sex education and orgasm coaching have slowly unwound, I’ve become less tolerant of organized religion and its particularly insidious shaming of sexuality, sensuality and the joy of our physical connection to each other and the universe. Far too many of us have been wounded, deeply scarred by people using religion as a weapon, for me to glibly and wholeheartedly embrace it and all religions as I once did. But as she described this feeling she had, one of slowly being re-born, I felt the wisdom of it in my body, and the spiritual if not religious tones were just right.
Gracious resurrection is exactly what a Bodysex workshop is all about. Compassionate, kind, divine rebirth. Not just for one woman, but for all of us. A re-making and embracing of the whole – person by person, until we strangers are knitted together with a bond stronger than any rope.
Sonya Renee Taylor, a poet and activist, speaks of Body Terrorism. To her, this is “the debilitating shame that people around the world live with as a result of the psychological attacks our social and media machines wage against us, ending in bulimia and anorexia, addiction, stigma, racism, homophobia, ableism, sizeism, ageism, transphobia, mass self-hatred, and senseless violence as a result of body hatred.” I feel this too, in my body.
We are all both teachers and students in the Bodysex circle. And it’s different each time, as the women bring their stories and we see each other in each other. While this month’s Bodysex was unique, the thread that bound us all was not. Shame is all too universal.
Shame about our bodies, shame about our vulvas, shame about our desires and our relationships and… you name it. Collectively and compassionately, we listened and witnessed and honestly shared how we saw each other – the beauty, the love, the diversity. We held each other up, we leaned on each other, we cried and we rode powerfully up on the wings of pleasure. And in so doing, we started to lay down the shame and to fully embrace ourselves.
For the first time, I held Bodysex during a pandemic. I was determined not to cancel as I had in April, feeling keenly the need for connection, resilience and pleasure now more than ever. I worked extra hard to move the workshop outside, to create a sacred and beautiful space on my deck, and to make it as safe as possible for all. Magically and despite the difficulties, the outdoor space added a sense of freedom and connection to nature and to healing I had not anticipated. For this, and the memory of eight incredible women in erotic recess, with fire pits aglow, snuggled into our individual nests, dancing naked both together and apart beneath a few raindrops, I will be forever grateful.
Each time I have the privilege to be part of this special sisterhood, I feel at first like the women coming for the first time. Nervous and scared that I won’t be enough. The old body shame momentarily returns, then I remember. Gracious resurrection. I embrace the nakedness, the lack of barriers real or perceived between me and my sisters, greeting each woman in my full curves and goddess belly joyfully. I both hold and am held. This is the magic of Bodysex. Thank you for your courage and your holding, Lily, Petunia, The Goddess, Lyla, Jacinta, V, Scintillating Sjofn and Va-Va. Forever in sisterhood and in love, Peachy Keen
